Last weekend I bought the newspapers, the actual paper weekend editions.  It was an escape into   now-abandoned ritual, established when I had time for a leisurely all-day session, reading every article, moving into or out of the sun as necessary with a cup of tea close by. But  the papers last  Saturday initiated my  transition from head-based concern about others and focus on crisis management into full-body  appreciation of massive disruption. Flipping through the the magazine and lifestyle supplements was even  more than ordinarily eye-popping. I get it, they’re printed up to a week in advance and things are changing rapidly but  the full page ads for a since-cancelled national theatre production, the face potions and countless tasty entertainment or travel temptations (oh the cruises!!)... all so pointless and alienating in their narcissim.

 So ... writing a perky, “it was so fabulous!” reflection on the Centre's  week-long International Women's Day celebration complete with pictures of women singing, dancing, making sculpture and celebrating their wares in our new store felt equally  … off;  celebrating activities that might now still be going on in a parallel universe.



















Like everyone else, my colleagues and I have been feeling all the feelings as we unravel plans and enter the full ambiguity of what comes next.  It is a moment of  anomie – isolation in an environment of not knowing anything for certain: notions of appropriate behaviour, income, shopping list priorities…  a time of  identity and culture expression require different forms of expression. Who are we without our social context??



















































































While the noisy posts and tweets from the usual suspects are shouting and sharing about "measures", the noise seems feels like my newspaper purchase – a self-soothing busy-ness that provides continuity in  an established narrative.  But that shouty, samey, entitled narrative is out of date. Like the thwack of the footy against the goalpost usually drowned by the crowd and the birds I could hear today in Lonsdale Street, can we notice and elevate what makes our communities special? The quieter  stories, songs and actions are so important to our context that often faily to don’t see or hear them. Is is possible we could be  so we are a different, more appreciative society when we meet again in person having learned something during solitude?

 The inherently analogue and social nature of arts and cultural activities has fuelled  the QVWC’s recently launched strategic purpose which is to bring the women* of Victoria together by supporting spaces that nurture networks and relationships. Artists don't stop being artists when they're out of work, and we’re all reaping the benefits of their recorded/streamed efforts at the moment.  But the live nature of the the incredible capability and creativity we saw from professionals and participants alike during our celebrations of IWD provides evidence of how the arts and cultural participation creates shared meaning through stories and connection: singing, speaking, joking, dancing together, making sculpture, admiring makers' works, celebrating the artistic heritage and contemporary practice of First Nations people.



















Though it might make you feel linked to “normal”, have a go at re-thinking the narrative during this historical moment.  Take notice of quiet things, share your pics of social creativity of all kinds with us and the world and  elevate  stories. We will be doing the same and till we’re live, live take care and stay safe.

 Until then,

Jo Porter and QVWC team.

* Recognising and supporting women, nonbinary and gender-diverse people we are For Women, By Women.

Photography: Bri Hammond